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10 pretty little kitty, you're Mommie's precious little furry-wurry baby!" Luckily, I've only been caught doing this by my fiance and Mother. Outsiders see I'm guilty of being a cat lover whenever I wear dark colors. I think it's the balls of cat hair hanging off my clothing that gives me away. Anyone who has seen me grocery shopping knows I'm a cat-lady, too. I'm the one you always have the misfortune of getting in line behind, you know, I'm the one with a basket full of canned cat food, and the 800 cat food coupons. Visiting my house is a whole different matter. It can be a nightmare for unsuspecting people who are not crazy about cats. What these people don't realize is that my cat knows when they don't like him and that's why he is staring at them relentlessly and rubbing up and down their pant's legs. If they happen to come at "Cat Happy Hour", it can be sheer hell for them. For those of you ho don't have cats, this is that hour during the night when, for no apparent reason, cats run up and down the walls, ceiling, and any people in their paths, like crazed, furry lunatics. But most embarrassing are those occasions when my cats decide to puke up hairballs for, or worse, on, the company. Yet, in spite of all this, I am a cat lover, and if you have ever watched one of these sleek, beautiful, fascinating creatures and held its soft purring body in your arms, you will appreciate why I put up with all the trouble. I don't even mind being called a cat-lady, I guess. --Kandida Lehmann